


Lots of cherry vodka and a bandaid with cats on it

by etoileyoongi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Angst, also jisung: falls on his face, binnie steals felix’ sweaters so that’s a thing, i had to wake up at 5:30 to go n take my entrance exam i’m wrecked, jisung: hey that’s an angel i should /seduce/ them, me projecting my weird sense of humor onto jisung: perfect, minho is just there looking pretty, no angst just soft boys in love, no beta i literally don’t care about grammar at this point, they’re at a party (someone save hyunjin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoileyoongi/pseuds/etoileyoongi
Summary: In one night, Jisung gets shit-faced drunk, meets an angel and proposes to his long-time crush (who is also somehow his boyfriend?). Nothing about it is his fault, of course.
Relationships: (IMPLIED), Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 244





	Lots of cherry vodka and a bandaid with cats on it

**Author's Note:**

> [As of 04/10/2020 this story has been edited to exclude Kim Woojin, for the sake of not only my piece of heart, but I'm sure many others as well.
> 
> Thus, there is a random mention of JB, the person who has stolen my heart just by having that fucking cheek piercing. my lawyer will be in touch.]

This must be a mistake, Jisung thinks, even in his half-inebriated state. There’s no way a guy that ethereal would be at what he considers to be one of the most crowded and, quite frankly, fucked-up parties he’s ever been to (Chan has been the cause of some questionable things in the past, but Jesus, this got to be a new low. He has seen three people puke their guts out in the last half an hour - one of them on Chan’s new rug, and the last time he saw Hyunjin, Jeongin and Felix were pushing the poor guy, half asleep and extremely intoxicated, on a floaty into the pool). The party is rowdy, wild, and in Jisung’s mind, the boy standing in the middle of the kitchen seems extremely out of place.

God must’ve sent an angel down on accident, he thinks, studying him from where he collapsed onto the couch, next to Changbin, an hour ago, just a _ little _ too dizzy to stay upright. (He doesn’t actually remember how he got here, but  _ eeh _ , that seems like a problem for later). The line of his jaw, his sharp eyes and the way he carries himself, everything about him screams ‘out-of-this-world’. He’s talking to some other dude, that Jisung vaguely remembers being in his calculus class (Soobin, Sangmin? Maybe he should care more), and he’s comfortably leaning against the kitchen island, flaunting his stupidly well-built body. Who knew they made angels that hot nowadays? 

Maybe he should go help him, Jisung thinks. Yeah, good idea. That means he gets to talk to him, ánd maybe the angel can even put in some good words for him in case heaven really exists, and God is actually as disappointed in his choice to study music instead of business as his grandmother told him when she found out. Which still confuses him, because how come she would know? Does she have a direct telephone connection to God, somehow? He should investigate that next time he sees her, which hopefully isn’t anytime soon. She can be a little crabby sometimes.

Anyways, back to business. He pushes himself up from the cushions he had contendly sunken into, and addresses Changbin, who is sitting next to him, watching as Felix does some weird tik tok dance on the middle of the dancefloor. He’s drooling a bit, and Jisung isn’t sure if it’s because he’s two-thirds on his way to getting his stomach pumped,  _ again _ , or because of his disgusting crush on their (admittedly and objectively cute) friend. Knowing him, it’s probably both, he thinks, as he inspects the way Changbin’s eyes start to droop a bit as he chokes on his own spit. Maybe he should send someone else over to check up on him later. But for now, he has more important matters to take care of.

_ “I’m going to help that angel over there, in the kitchen”.  _ He points towards the guy, in case Changbin’s five brain cells have logged off for the night and he can’t deduce who he’s talking about. That doesn’t seem to be the case just yet, luckily, as his friend turns towards him to look him in the eyes, and then over to the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, like Jisung expected him to, just does another weird  _ choking-thing _ (and Jisung should really find Jaebeom and tell him to have 911 on speed dial, just in case Changbin swallows his own tongue,  _ also again _ . He loves the guy, but he has to admit that he’s a bit of a weirdo. Then again, who in their friend group - besides Jisung himself obviously - isn’t). Changbin just keeps quiet after that, until Jisung gets tired of waiting for an actual response, rolling his eyes.  _ “Good talk, I’m gonna go now”. _

And up he is, making his way over to Chan’s kitchen, and to the pretty boy. It takes him a while, head spinning a bit, feet moving just a  _ little _ bit too slow, but he gets there eventually. Just before he reaches the angel though (his friend had left, which might’ve been an indicator of how slow and drunk he was, had he actually cared), he stumbles over a pair of legs (that, now that he thinks about it, looked suspiciously like Chan’s) and, adding that to his already  _ slightly  _ intoxicated brain, he totally loses his balance, falling to the ground with flailing arms. Oh no, he thinks, closing his eyes as the floor rapidly approaches, now I’ll die and I’ll never meet the cute guy and get to impress him with my bright and amazing personality, and I also won’t get to become a famous producer, and I also won’t see Changbin embarrassing himself anytime Felix wears tank tops anymore.

But the impact of him hitting the ground never comes, and instead there are two arms around his waist and a warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He squirms away, because the breath tickles and he, Han Jisung, as tough and cool as he may be, does not at all enjoy tickling.

He’s set on his feet again, and turned around, as if he was a rag doll (which, in this moment, sounds quite nice. Dolls don’t have brains - at least he  _ thinks so  _ \- so they won’t care about embarrassing themselves in front of cute guys. Sounds great), and then he’s looking into two cat-like eyes, looking down at him, accompanied by a raised eyebrow and a soft “ _ Are you okay?” _ .

Huh, Jisung thinks, inspecting the guy closer, he looks a lot like Minho. Weird. The same eyes, same nose, same lips that Jisung has been pining over since forever (or, more specifically, a year, five months and 26 days. He keeps a tally). Do angels know how to shapeshift? His grandmother never told him about thát, and bible study would’ve been a lot more interesting if he had known that bit of information. The angel made a good decision, too, shapeshifting into the prettiest (and nicest and sweetest) boy he knows.

Even weirder, however, is that the angel also has Minho’s voice. And Minho’s voice, soft and sweet and comforting, is not something that could be copied, he is sure of it. Which would mean that the boy standing in front of him  _ is  _ Minho. Crazy.

A hand appears in front of his eyes, waving back and forth, and willing Jisung to focus his gaze. Behind it is a concerned-looking Minho, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted. He looks amazing like this, Jisung thinks, all serious and concentrated.

_ “Hey, hyung,” _ he lets out a sudden hiccup, followed by a little giggle,  _ “do you have a boyfriend?” _ . And he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, because Minho is his elder, and his crush, and what the  _ fuck _ is he thinking talking to him like that? Just how drunk is he? If this ruins his chance with Minho, then God be damned, but he’ll dunk his head in a toilet pot and flush. Multiple times.

But God seems to think he has suffered enough, because instead Miho just laughs fondly, and tells him  _ “I do. Did you drink too much, Jisungie?” _

And Jisung can’t dwell on the fact that Minho just confirmed he’s not single and Jisung in fact isn’t seducing him by panting in his face with a breath full of alcohol, because Minho knows his name, and called him Jisungie, and just  _ how _ did he find out his name? He’s thinking hard.

His brain cells, which had noped out of there and left him to suffer on his own for what seems like the last five years, are finally coming back, and with them all the memories, and his sanity (what’s left at least). And oh, that’s how he got to the party. Together with his boyfriend.

Because Jisung has a boyfriend, and has had one for quite a while now (4 months and 7 days, his wall back in the dorms is just full of tally marks, really). And just his luck is that his boyfriend is indeed the prettiest (and nicest and sweetest) person ever. Which is really awesome because he gets to sit in his lap and brush his hair and whisper sweet words into his shoulder while they cuddle, and life is  _ so much more awesome. _ (Changbin rolled his eyes when he told him about it, until Jisung threatened to tell Felix about all his ‘lost’ sweaters coincidentally ending up in Changbin’s drawer . He quickly shut up after that). And Jisung is very,  _ very _ gay for his boyfriend.

Very,  _ very _ gay for Minho. His boyfriend. Of over four months now (did he mention that already?) (they went to a cute cafe to celebrate, and Minho fed Jisung cheesecake, and he had never been so in love). He’s the one that made Minho say he’s not single! And now that his brain is suddenly working again, it can’t seem to stop shouting declarations of love and adoration about the one in front of him.

_ “You -  _ **_I’m_ ** _ your boyfriend! And you’re my boyfriend!”, _ he exclaims happily, interrupting Minho’s repeated questions about whether he’s okay and just  _ how much _ he’s drunk.  _ “My boyfriend! I got a boyfriend! And he’s pretty!” _

He grabs Minho’s cheeks, squishing them together until he’s pouting. And oh, he looks so, so pretty (and confused, but mostly pretty). He always does.

_ “You’re so, so pretty! Like-“,  _ he stops for a moment, raking his mind for something as pretty as Minho. It’s hard, of course, because Minho is  _ exceptionally  _ gorgeous, but then again, Jisung is nothing short of a genius. “ _ like a cat! A little kitty. So pretty and so cute! My kitten”. _

_ “Did you know I love you? Because I do! I love you very, very much!” _ , he babbles on, mind whirling, too drunk on love (and vodka) to care about what’s spilling out of his mouth. Minho’s hold on him tightens, and Jisung frowns. “ _ I don’t think I tell you enough, though. I can’t remember telling you. How can I forget to tell you?!” _ He’s mumbling now, visibly upset and with a petulant pout on his lips. He’s so caught up in his own mind (how come he doesn’t remember telling Minho he loves him?!) that he doesn’t notice the other boy fondly pushing his sweaty fringe out of his face, shushing him.

_ “It’s okay. I know you love me, baby. You’re always showing it”.  _ Jisung beams, gasping up at him in delight. He’s Minho’s baby. “ _ I am? That’s- that’s great! I should keep doing things like that, because I always want you to know I love you!” _

He’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Then, a genius idea comes to his mind. Call him Einstein 2.0, because Jisung just cracked the code, guys. Do you know what people do when they’re as enamoured with their significant other as he is with Minho? And when they love them so much and feel like they can’t live without them and want to be with them forever?

That’s right, they propose.

And before he can actually think about it for another second (because is four months of being together really enough to get married? For society that is, Jisung would’ve married his boyfriend the day he met him if it had been socially acceptable and not frowned upon), he sinks down on one knee, rummaging through his back pocket for anything that resembles a ring or a jewel or whatever. He finds a rubber band and two pebbles and also a bandaid. That’ll have to do for now.

Pulling out the bandaid (there’s cats on it, what a personal touch!), he turns to look up at Minho, who’s staring back at him with an open mouth and a mix of amusement and flat-out bewilderment in his eyes. Perfect, bet he didn’t see that one coming. He clears his throat.

_ “Minho-hyung, you wanna get married? I know we’ve been together for only a little, but we’re here to have a good time, anyways, not a long one.” _ He hiccups, momentarily losing his train of thought.  _ “Umm- accept this bandaid! There’s cats on it!”  _ He holds it up as high as he can, so Minho can see what a thoughtful gift he got him, smiling widely.

His boyfriend looks like he’s torn between throwing the closest beer over his head or kissing him senseless (he would prefer the second option, thank you), but in the end he just laughs. Then, he speaks up, voice somewhere between endeared and somewhat hysterical.

_ “Thank you, Hannie. Real sweet of you. Will you now please come off the floor?” _ He sticks his hand out, but instead of grabbing it, Jisung happily unwraps the bandaid and puts it on one of his fingers (his thumb, because it’s the only one not completely blurry right now, but hey, it’s the thought that counts!) before stumbling to his feet on his own, and immediately falling into Minho's chest.

His boyfriend - fiancé - lets out something between a chuckle and a sigh, before wrapping his hands around Jisung’s waist securely and starting to lead him towards the stairs. 

_ “C’mon, bedtime for you. You can sleep in my room tonight”. _ And then, softer, the last thing Jisung hears before he officially crosses the line towards unconsciousness, a whisper of  _ i love you too. _

—

He’s never drinking again, he decides the next morning, while an aboriginal is playing didgeridoo inside his skull and a knife thrower seems to be practicing on his head. Tonight, he’s throwing away all the alcohol he has, even the cherry vodka Hyunjin got him as a bribe so he would help him with his calculus. (He knows he said this the last three times he woke up with a hangover, too, but this time is different. Promise). He cringes at himself. For fuck’s sake, he can’t even remember what went on at the party. Everything is black, except for Minho hauling him up the stairs and putting him in his bed. Oh, right, Minho.

He turns to his boyfriend, who’s already up and looking down at him with so much love and adoration in his eyes, it aches. He loves him so much (though he wouldn’t tell him that, he’s aware it’s too early in their relationship to do so), it hurts sometimes.

_ “What did I do yesterday? Anything happened?” _ His voice sounds rough and he winces at how loud it is echoing into the quiet room. Minho hums, softly patting in his hair, and then he gives him one of those smiles that make Jisung fall in love all over again. Life seems to be perfect in this moment, he thinks, snuggling closer into Minho’s chest as the latter lets out a few chuckles.

_ “You proposed to me.”  _ He sounds smug and giddy and happy all at the same time, and Jisung automatically responds with a  _ “that’s nice” _ , before the words actually get through his thick and hangover skull to his brain, which is slowly starting to work again. Then he shoots up, immediately grimacing at the knives cutting through his head, and falls back down onto Minho’s body.

_ “I did what?!” _

**Author's Note:**

> jisung: pretty boy i love yoouuuu *falls on his face*  
> also jisung: the love inside this lil guy (me) is astronomical
> 
> Pls leave a comment i need actual social interaction i died preparing for my university entrance exam.  
> 


End file.
